


Heart of the Scribe

by iam93percentstardust



Series: A Legend Anew [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Romance, Tropey fic is tropey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: Ori saw them fall. Now, he fears he's waited too long.





	Heart of the Scribe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TurnTechTimaeus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnTechTimaeus/gifts).



> For TurnTechTimaeus who was brave enough to request a fic and kind enough to accept me when I said there would definitely be angst in her requested fluff

The hour was early, far too early for most decent folk to be awake. Ori certainly liked to think of himself as decent folk but his current mission was too sensitive for him to be spotted scurrying about. If he was unsuccessful, if he was rejected, he didn’t want anyone to see his pain.

Ori had done some hard thinking this past week when the Company had thought both Dwalin and Legolas to be dead. He hadn’t told any of the others but he had seen the two fall. His small section of the trail had jutted away from the cliff face and he had seen Legolas’ head jerk up at the sound of lightning splitting rock, had watched as the elf swung Dwalin over his back and perform acrobatic, gravity-defying stunts in a desperate attempt to dodge the rockslide and get to safety. They’d almost made it too. But then an orc had grabbed hold of Legolas’ hair, snapping him back. Legolas had lost his balance and a boulder the size of a pony had struck Dwalin’s head and they had tumbled out of sight. Ori had screamed in horror, a cry matched by Kíli’s grief-stricken howl, feeling his heart break in two as Dwalin fell.

Each of the Company had dealt with the grief in their own way, though most had chosen to remind themselves that they were still alive by surrounding themselves with the others. Thorin and Fíli had both spent countless hours in meeting after meeting with Lord Elrond and some ranger. Kíli had been bundled off by Elrond’s daughter, who had promised him solitude and rest. Ori had wished that he could do the same as Kíli but he had no claim on Dwalin the way the prince had on Legolas. Instead, he had let Dori drag him to the gatherings only to sneak off to Lord Elrond’s extensive libraries when he could. He would find a book to lose himself in and then bury himself in a secluded corner to waste away the hours.

He thought often of Dwalin. During the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, he had little to do with the burly dwarf though he’d admired him frequently. But then, after Thorin had become king, they’d spent more and more time together, Dwalin as Thorin’s personal bodyguard and Ori as the head scribe. They had little in common but they were able to appreciate their differences. They soon became friends, to Nori’s everlasting amusement and Dori’s disapproval. Dwalin was willing to join him for afternoon tea, a habit Ori had picked up from Bilbo, and Ori would go out with Dwalin when he traveled to Dale for one of their many pubs. Ori lent him books he thought Dwalin would like. Dwalin spent many hours teaching Ori to properly use an axe.

It would have been perfect if it weren’t for Ori’s pesky infatuation.

Some time during the early years of Thorin’s reign, Ori’s admiration of Dwalin’s physique (and tattoos and blue eyes and thick beard) turned into an admiration of his sharp wit and the way he handled knitting needles (like swords) and his appreciation of the books Ori brought him even if he didn’t quite understand them.

He had known that it was hopeless. Beside the fact that Dori would never approve, he had seen the kind of people Dwalin took to his bed on the occasional night at the pubs. They were all rough and tumble the way Dwalin was himself. So Ori had said nothing of it, done nothing, hoping it would go away.

But then Dwalin had fallen and Ori’s heart had shattered into a thousand little pieces. He had known then that it was no mere infatuation, that, quite without realizing it, he had fallen deeply in love with Dwalin at some point over the last fifteen years.

He regretted then that he had never said anything. Even if Dwalin hadn’t returned his affections, even if he had thought them silly, at least he would have tried. He hadn’t though and now he had no right to mourn Dwalin the way he did.

Then Fíli had come to them all at dinner last night, bearing news that Dwalin and Legolas were both alive if injured. Oh the celebration that had broken out then. It had been as raucous a celebration if there ever was one. More than a little drunk, Ori had slipped away some hours later, intent on finding Dwalin and telling him everything but Thorin had been sitting with him and Ori had lost his nerve.

He’d lain awake for hours, rethinking his decision and wondering if it was truly a good idea to say anything, when Nori had suddenly sat up in the next bed over. “I can hear you thinking from over here. Just tell him and be done with,” he’d said impatiently.

Ori had been startled, not realizing that his feelings were so transparent. “You really think it’s a good idea?” he’d asked.

“Oh sure. I think it’s a grand one.”

“But what about Dori?”

Nori had laughed at that. “What about Dori?” he repeated. “He’ll huff about it but he just wants you to be happy and if you think Dwalin’s it, then he’ll come to accept it.”

“But… what if Dwalin doesn’t want me?” Ori asked hesitantly, giving voice to the fears that had been bothering him for nearly fifteen years.

Nori grimaced sympathetically. “Then more’s the pity because he’ll never find a better dwarf than you. But you learn to move on. That’s the best you can do.” He’d grown quiet by the end and Ori was reminded of the dwarf lass Nori had fallen for long ago, the one whose parents had married her off as soon as they’d realized a thief was courting their daughter.

Ori still hadn’t slept that night though he was planning out what he wanted to say rather than worrying about what would happen. What would happen would happen no matter what Ori did. Sometime just before dawn, he saw Thorin pass outside his bedroom window. He took it to mean that Dwalin was now alone and he slipped from his bed to make his way to Dwalin’s room.

He stopped once outside of Kíli’s room, planning to gather borrowed courage from Kíli’s recklessness. Kíli had always gone after what he wanted, had always been willing to offer Ori madcap advice, and Ori rather thought he could use some of that. Before he could knock though, he heard a soft cry. He almost burst into the room, thinking that perhaps Legolas or maybe even Kíli was hurt. But then he heard a quiet plea of “Kíli, please,” and blushing madly, he backed away. Best to leave the two alone.

He paused again once he’d reached Dwalin’s room, his courage failing him once more. He wasn’t a great leader like Thorin or a prince like Kíli and Fíli or wise like Balin. He was just Ori. What could he possibly have that Dwalin would want? He thought of turning around and leaving. The door had been left open after Thorin’s departure though and Dwalin caught sight of him before he could go.

“Ori!” he bellowed happily. “Come here and get me out of this infernal room.”

Ori entered, pulling the door shut behind him, wondering what Dwalin was talking about. He didn’t have to wonder long. One of Dwalin’s shoulders was heavily bandaged but the good arm was- was tied to the bedpost.

“Those blasted elves threatened to tie me down if I tried to leave,” Dwalin said ruefully. “And Thorin was no help. You’ll help me get out. I know you will, right?”

Ori took another long look at the bandaged shoulder and the long gash down his cheek that he guessed would scar. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I will.”

Dwalin pouted, an unusual expression on his face. Ori wondered what kind of medications the elves had given him. “Traitor,” Dwalin muttered. Ori nodded solemnly at the pronounced judgment. “What brings you to my corner of the world?”

Ori’s nerves quailed in the face of such immediate questioning. “I couldn’t just want to make sure you’re alright?”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow at the dawn light creeping in through the window. “You could but it’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” He took a closer look at Ori and frowned. “Are you sure _you’re_ alright? You’re paler than snow. Come here.” He motioned for Ori to join him. Gulping, Ori moved closer to the bed. Dwalin grabbed his hand as soon as he did and tugged him down to sit beside him on the bed. “Ori, lad, what’s troubling you?”

All of Ori’s fancy planned words fled his head. The only thing he could think to say was- “I’ve always admired Kíli.” The words sunk in slowly. Mortified, he closed his eyes.

Abruptly, Dwalin dropped his hand. “Kíli? The lad’s nice enough but- _oh_.” Ori could feel Dwalin shift away. “If you were hoping to make a move, you’ve lost your chance. He’s gone on that elf of his.”

“No!” Ori blurted out, snatching up Dwalin’s hand again. It was limp between his two and Ori could feel the moment slipping away. He opened his eyes to meet Dwalin’s. “I meant his courage. He always goes after what he wants. I wish I could do that more.”

“I think you mean he’s reckless,” Dwalin replied, voice softening. “I’m glad you’re not like that.”

Ori flashed him a quick smile. “Yes but sometimes you realize that your feelings for a friend might have changed. Sometimes you think about saying something but you’re too afraid to and so years go by. And then maybe you think you’ve lost your chance and you wish you said something.” He realized he was babbling but he couldn’t seem to stop.

Dwalin squeezed his hand lightly. “Ori, what are you trying to say?” he asked, cutting through Ori’s babble. Ori thought he might even hear a bit of a hopeful note in his voice.

“I-” he breathed. “Oh, Mahal, I hope this isn’t a bad idea.” He cupped Dwalin’s cheek, mindful of the injury, and leaned down to kiss him as softly, as gently as he knew how.

For a moment, it was perfect. Complete bliss swept through him. This was what Ori had been dreaming about for fifteen years, the feel of Dwalin’s stiff lips against his- wait. Stiff lips? Now that he thought about it, all of Dwalin was frozen against him.

Horrified, he pulled back. Dwalin was staring at him, completely stunned. Clearly, he had only been imagining the hopeful tone in Dwalin’s voice. “I’m so sorry,” he said hastily, beginning to back away. “It won’t happen again. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” He reached behind him, feeling for the doorknob.

“Ori, wait!” Dwalin called out, lifting his bad arm to reach out for him, wincing when it pulled.

“You shouldn’t do that you know,” Ori said quietly, pausing in the doorway.

“I was just surprised,” Dwalin said desperately, motioning for him to move closer. Ori took a few steps back into the room but didn’t approach the bed again. He didn’t think Dwalin would strangle him for daring to kiss him but he didn’t really want to give him the opportunity. Dwalin studied him closely, eyes searching his though for what Ori wasn’t sure.

“Look,” Dwalin said eventually. “Sometimes a man realizes he’s in love with his friend and sometimes a man does nothing because he’s afraid his friend doesn’t love him too and-” he added quickly as hope began to steal its way back into Ori’s heart, “-he’s afraid of his friend’s two brothers, one of whom is the most terrifying gentle-dwarf to ever walk Middle Earth and the other is the king’s spymaster. But he loves his friend anyway and then his friend surprises him by kissing him and he doesn’t respond the way he should because he knows he’s not good enough for his friend and because he’s afraid of his two brothers.” Dwalin paused. “Have I mentioned the two brothers?”

Ori giggled. “You love me?”

Dwalin nodded fervently. “More than I thought possible.” He held out his hand to Ori again. This time, Ori moved back to the bed, perching on the side, gently taking Dwalin’s hand once more. “I know that I am just a guard but I give you my heart if you would have it.”

Ori gave him a shy smile, amazed by the simple eloquence with which Dwalin spoke. “And I would give you mine.”

Dwalin smiled back broadly. “Ori,” he murmured. “I would pull you closer but this is as much as I can move my hand. These elves are kinky bastards.”

Ori laughed at that. “What, you can’t untie your hand with your toes or something?” he teased.

Pausing, Dwalin thought about that for a moment. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried,” he admitted. “Think I hurt too much. You’ll have to do it for me.”

“I was serious,” Ori told him. “I won’t do it. You’re going to stay here until the elves declare you fit. But-” He held up a finger to Dwalin’s protesting mouth. “I’ll stay here with you.”

Without another word, he curled up beside Dwalin on the bed. He leaned over and pressed another gentle kiss to Dwalin’s lips, smiling into the kiss when he felt him respond this time. His arm curled over Dwalin’s chest.

Dwalin tried again to pull his hand ineffectually from its bond, wanting to respond in kind. But he couldn’t so he settled for wrapping his hand around one of Ori’s braids. Hearts lighter than they’d been in a long time, the two fell asleep in the early dawn.


End file.
